DX01: SINGULARITY 00336

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm surrounded by a thick layer of frost-covered grass that crunches underfoot, with what looks like tiny, shimmering circuits etched into each blade. The air is heavy with the smell of wood smoke and it's still, like there's no wind at all, even though the sky above is a deep, stormy grey. A slowly rotating, crystalline formation juts out of the ground, reflecting the Stellar price chart in shifting patterns of facets, and somehow it's physically connected to a black hole hovering above, anchored by a thread-like tendril of distorted space-time. The frost is forming weird, symmetrical patterns.